


Problem

by Hanthebeautifulsquirrel



Series: Finding Stray Kids [1]
Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Addiction, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alcohol Withdrawal, Angst with a Happy Ending, Brief Mention of Woojin but it's just Seungmin Shading him, Crying, Drinking, Everyone Needs A Hug, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, Good Leader Bang Chan, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Lee Minho | Lee Know-centric, Making Up, Mention of Past Abuse, Minor Violence, No Smut, Past Abuse, Platonic Relationships, Recovery, Running Away, Sad with a Happy Ending, Yang Jeongin | I.N is a Sweetheart, everyone is trying their best, no relationships - Freeform, well mostly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:42:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24764848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hanthebeautifulsquirrel/pseuds/Hanthebeautifulsquirrel
Summary: Minho didn't have a drinking problem, he didn't need alcohol to get him through the day, he didn't need the beverage to have fun, he didn't rely on alcohol to loosen up.Except he did.OrWhere Minho develops a drinking problem and Stray Kids help open his eyes by showing him just how bad his problem has gotten.
Relationships: Bang Chan & Lee Minho | Lee Know, Everyone/Everyone, Han Jisung | Han & Lee Minho | Lee Know, Hwang Hyunjin & Lee Minho | Lee Know, Kim Seungmin & Lee Minho | Lee Know, Lee Felix & Lee Minho | Lee Know, Lee Minho | Lee Know & Seo Changbin, Lee Minho | Lee Know & Yang Jeongin | I.N, Lee Minho | Lee Know/Everyone
Series: Finding Stray Kids [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1790953
Comments: 33
Kudos: 185





	1. How it started

It wasn’t a problem. 

It was harmless, at least he thought it was harmless.

A can of beer once a week wasn’t a problem. A glass of wine late at night everyday wasn’t a problem. Shots of tequila at his friend’s parties wasn’t a problem. 

The itch he felt of wanting the cold cruel liquid down his throat wasn’t a problem. The flask he hid in the inner pocket of his dance bag filled with whiskey wasn’t a problem. The loneliness he felt and the comfort he got from drinking wasn’t a problem. 

It wasn’t a problem because he was an idol. He was a role model for so many and he couldn't have a problem because idols didn't have problems. Idols were perfect so he was perfect. 

Lee Minho was just like any other adult dabbling with alcohol. He first tried beer when he turned of age and like most, he hated the taste, he hated how bitter it was, hated how it burned his throat as it made its way down towards his liver. But like many others he grew used to the taste and began to enjoy it. But that was normal and no one, not even Minho himself, minded his new acquired taste. 

Drinking made him more social, more fun, more lively. It started with his friends sending texts along the lines of: ‘Hey man haven’t seen you in awhile, having a party tonight stop by if you can. Booze and chicks’ or ‘Yo pretty boy, party at my place. Bottoms up’. And Minho was grateful for them. How could he not be? He hadn’t seen his friends in months and was grateful that they still thought of him despite the countless times he had declined a meet up because it conflicted with his schedule or he was simply just too tired. 

So Minho went even though he couldn’t hold his liquor well and was inexperienced compared to the rest of his friends. Staring at the mirror and seeing himself in what he considered to be ‘normal outing clothes’, which consisted of some basic ripped black skinny jeans and a white tee paired with a leather black jacket and a random pair of shoes, Minho deemed himself ready and began heading out the dorms. He gave a random shout of his departure, though he wasn’t even sure if any of his members were even home yet, grabbed his phone and wallet and let the door which instantly locked close behind him. 

It was a short walk and Minho decided that he could risk walking it without a mask or hat on especially considering that it was nearing 11pm. Despite his quick steps, a habit long imbedded into him from all the airport and public endeavors encountered, Minho really did enjoy feeling the wind through his hair. Before he knew it he was there at the address his friend had sent him earlier that day. He knew it was the right place because he could hear the music blaring and was slightly surprised that the group of young adults causing it hadn’t received a noise complaint but decided not to question it. Taking a moment just to breath, Minho relaxed his demeanor and placed a friendly smile on his face before turning the doorknob.  
It didn’t take long at all for him to find his friends and for the first since his high school days, before he truly focused on his dreams and became a backup dancer for BTS, he let himself have fun. He turned his brain off and just let his hips sway to the music and his voice to cheer on whatever dumb drunken behavior that was going on infornt of him. But after a while he had gotten tired of being brainless and social and it was hard to keep up his behavior. His friends saw this and took it as a chance to try and get him to drink, to “help him let loose” as they called it.

“I don’t know man, I don’t really like the taste of this shit. Plus I don't really think I can afford showing up to practice with a killer hangover tomorrow.” Minho said with a shrug as he sat down on the light dull blue couch and ran a hand through his sweaty hair. He tilted his head back and stared into the ceiling in thought, forgetting for a second where he was. 

“Oh come on, don’t be a sissy. You just haven’t had enough to get used to it yet.” One of Minho’s friends said plopping down onto the same couch next to Minho wrapping an arm around his shoulders and shoved cold shot glass onto Minho’s chapped lips. Now Minho was never really one to summit to peer pressure, he was weird in his own way but he loved it and wouldn’t change himself for the world, but seeing everyone’s eyes on him when he really just wanted to blend into the background for once made him anxious. Not really wanting to argue on the one night he had set out to have fun at, Minho reluctantly grabbed the glass and poured the unforgiving liquid down his throat as quickly as possible and the whole room erupted into cheers. 

Before he knew it Minho took shots left and right. Honestly not knowing how things had escalated so quickly he felt his body relax and had somehow lost his semi-expensive jacket somewhere. Staggering around the decently sized apartment complex he took part in whatever drinking game that was in front of him and no one stopped him. No one placed rules on him saying he couldn’t do it because it would ‘ruin his reputation’, though in a way it kind of did. Maybe not to the public but to his members. 

The last drinking game was the most basic, it was beer pong except that if the ping-pong ball went in the thrower would not only have to not only consume the beer but would also have to take on a truth or dare. At that point Minho’s hand eye coordination was completely out the window but he managed to get one in and happily chugged the beer with a light giggle and exclaimed “Truth!” 

A random girl leaned into Minho’s personal space and with a high pitched voice that Minho thought was annoying as hell whined, “Aw come on that no fun, do a dare!” scrunching up his face and pulling away from the girl Minho easily agreed. The girl seemed as though her dare was going to be something sexual but was stopped when a boy that was slightly taller than Minho wrapped a hand around the girl and pulled her into his own rough embrace. It looked like the man was the girl’s boyfriend, or at least was interested in her but Mine didn’t really care to ask.

“I have a dare” the boy with jet black hair started after making out with the girl, once again Minho had no idea how things escalated between the two but frankly didn’t care, “You’re one of those idol boys right?” the boy questioned to which Minho gave a delirious nob. “I dare you to call the first contact on your phone and say some shocking shit”. 

Some of the other young adults around him whined complaining that that dare was too easy, some of the girls clearly disappointed that they didn’t have a chance to dare the handsome dancer themselves. Being the competitive spirit he is, Minho took out his phone and clumsily entered his password before calling the first number on his contact, which happened to be Chan, and placed the call on speaker mode. 

After two or three rings Chan answered with a simple tired “Hello?” Minho didn't take time to register how tired Chan had sounded or how truly late into the night it was. He wasn't thinking. "Hyung," Minho said, drawing out the word into an extracted whine. "I'm leaving Stray Kids". Minho said with an airy giggle. 

There was complete silence on Chan's end. He couldn't believe what the second eldest had just said and to say that his words stung was an understatement. Everyone had been hurt when Woojin left the group but it was Chan who had been hurt the most. Not only did he lose a brother but he had lost his support system. Before Woojin had come along Chan had attempted to shoulder all the burdens that came with leading and it took someone older than him, it took Woojin to remind him that he wasn’t alone, that he didn’t have to do everything alone, but when Woojin had left Chan reverted back to his old ways of hoarding the responsibility of keeping Stray Kids high and functioning. The once forgotten responsibility when added came with a price, chan had become bitter. He was bitter from being tired all the time and would meltdown at unexpected yet private moments. Of course the other members noticed this shift, they noticed how their hyung’s long forgotten scary first impression had returned with vengeance and initially, Minho had no idea how to help. 

He was never one to fret about the health of others or coddle his members when they were scared or sad. He was the wired fun loving hyung who would help his younger members joke around and lift their spirits, he was the one they would go to get critics or advice on their dancing techniques, he was the chic older brother who should have cared in unconventional ways, but suddenly that wasn’t enough. Minho knew that he had to step up, not only for the sake of Chan but also for the sakes of his younger members and fans. And Minho did step up, he stepped up by scolding the members when they made a mistake in life and not just in dance, he stepped up by making sure everyone was asleep at a reasonable time the night before a busy schedule, he has stepped up and has become a more reliable support system for everyone. 

And Chan appreciated it. He appreciated every time he got one of Minho’s ‘All good at the dorm Captain, come back soon or I’m sending the Australian and Korean Embassy to drag you back home’ texts, he appreciated every time he would come home and see one of he younger members tucked under Minho's graspe as the other lazily threaded his fingers along the warn out boy’s hair, and for when he didn’t come home, he appreciated the random delivery orders Minho would send his way to make sure he ate. 

But this Minho wasn’t his Minho. Chan knew that, he knew what it sounded like to be drunk, he knew that what Minho had just said wasn’t a sober talk but it still hurt. If it was any other time Chan would’ve brushed it off as a joke but it was simply just...to soon. 

"What? Minho are you drunk? Mate come on…" Chan began with a disappointed sigh, "Can you tell me where you are? I'll come pick you up." he finished trying really hard not to verbally groan at the task of getting up when all he wanted was to crash on his studio couch. 

"I texte' it hyungie" Minho spurred out with a string of giggles before dissolving in a series of gagging sounds. Chan could hear unrecognizable voices shrieking in the background as a by-product of the latter sound. 

Now Chan wasn't planning on hanging up and was hoping that he could talk to the younger while he made his way to his location but apparently Minho didn't like that resolution as the other line went dead approximately 5 seconds after the gagging had started. With an audible groan this time, Chan pushed back his hair with a frustrated tug and grabbed his keys before opening Minho's messages and searching for the address that was supposedly sent. When Chan had found the location, he realized that it was a short distance away and made no waste in dashing his way towards the desired location. 

Minho, on the other hand, had somehow found his way towards the upstairs bathroom and was now stationed himself on top of the toilet seat as he emptied the contents of his stomach. His mind was hazed and he couldn't really remember how he had ended up in such circumstances. He couldn't remember why he was there in the first place or who he had just talked to. All he knew was that he wanted someone to rub his back and for the vomiting to subside. 

The cycle continued with him dry heaving for him a couple minutes, thinking he had finally emptied everything he had in him before somehow finding more liquid to vomit out into the toilet bowl in front of him. He became convinced that he would continue vomiting for at least a couple more hours and began to cry because he became aware of just how badly his stomach hurt and just how badly he wanted to curl up into a safe warm ball. Minho was never one to cry out of pain or uncertainty, he couldn't when he had to help support a team, but in that moment he couldn't help but let little tired whimpers out. 

"Oh mate…" he heard a familiar accented voice say from behind him. He didn't have the energy to turn and question who it was. Before long he felt a large comforting hand on his shoulder blade and gladly welcomed the tender yet strong touch, even finding himself leaning back into that hand as the gagging turned into more whimpering and tears. 

"I wanna go home." The drunk boy had a uttered tiredly as he covered his now wet face with his hands. The single hand morphe into a larger form of comfort, a hug. Accepting the touch's comfort, he wholeheartedly leaned his head back into the warm embrace's shoulder and let go of his body weights completely. 

Chan wanted to be mad, he wanted to yell and lecture Minho for being irresponsible while dragging his ass back but seeing the young man in such a vulnerable state caught him off guard. Any anger and disappointment he came with had faded away and been replaced with that of concern and worry. 

Shifting Minho into a position onto his back was difficult to say the least. Chan groaned as Minho accidentally slapped him with his dangling limb and Minho groaned because of the sudden unexpected movements of Chan trying to situate and secure him. 

The walk back was a quiet and thoughtful one. Passed out, Minho had a tight grip on Chan out of the need to find stability. That right grip on his shirt has also forced Chan onto focusing on getting Minho home and tucking him into bed. 

Getting the door to their dorm open was challenging but after sifting the boy on his back a bit to lean on his left shoulder, he had managed to get the task done. Plopping the boy down onto the bed, Chan made quick work at tucking him in. Once he was sure Minho was comfortable enough Chan sat down on the unoccupied edge of the bed and ran his fingers through the sweaty black mess known as Minho's hair. 

In the morning Minho arose with a groan. He sat up and leaned his back onto the wall with a small thump. Placing his hands on his eyes he attempted to rub the haziness out. His mind seemed to be swirling and the level of nauseousness he was experiencing felt surreal. Minho was so preoccupied with the unfavorable feeling that you didn't hear the door opening. 

“Glad to see you’re up party prince.” Changbin said with a snicker as he made his way closer to Minho with a glass of water and a painkiller occupying his hands. Even in his sorry state Minho could at the very least identify the owner of the voice. 

“I feel like shit” Minho concluded with a whining tone as a reply. Rubbing his eyes a couple more times he finally removed his hands from his bloodshot eyes and struggled to adjust to the brightness of the room. 

“Well what else do you expect.” Changbin said, rolling his eyes as he moved to situate himself to sit on a stool that was present at the side of the bed. Giving the water and medication to Minho he added, “Here, this should help with the hangover. It won’t get you a 100% up and about but it’ll do you some good at least. You’re really lucky we have a day off, with that hangover I bet you couldn’t tell your right and left foot apart.” 

For a couple seconds the conversion between the two of them died down as Minho grabbed the white pill and water and forced it down. Seeing he had swallowed the drug, Chnagbin grabbed the now empty cup of water and placed it on the floor beside him making a metal note to retrieve it on his way out. 

“I know you aren't really up for talking but you should really talk to Chan. He’s been in a really foul mood this morning and told me to give you the painkillers myself because he didn’t want to paster you yet. Seriously what did you do last night to piss him off that badly.” Changbin broke the silence with a concerned sign. “Just talk to him, the kids are starting to get worried. They’re all hiding out in their rooms with, what they call, ‘two out of three hyungs out of order’". Patting Minho’s knee as a form of support and comfort and retrieving the glass placed at his foot, Chnagbin took his cue to leave and closed the door behind him gently. 

Option not to seek out Chan immediately, the hungover boy slid back down onto his bed and placed his forearms to rest on his head. Staring at the ceiling above him, he began to wonder what he could have possibly said or done to anger Chan to the point where he had sent Changbin to check up on him rather than checking up on him himself. After a handful of scenarios, he got frustrated with his theories and decided to just go and find the older boy himself. 

Surprisingly he found Chan sitting alone on one of the kitchen stools nursing a cup of coffee. Minho slipped onto the stool next to Chan but couldn’t find any words to annonce so he just sat there observing Chan awkwardly. Chan must have gotten sick of the tension and spoke first, “Minho just says what you want to say. Stop prolonging it.” 

Not really knowing what to say he tested his brain by letting out a hestient “I-” by instant and did not seem to find any words to follow up his initial word. Feeling like his vocabulary had come to a halt he said the only thing he knew what to say, “I’m sorry”. It was only after uttering those simple general words that he found the rest of the words needed to continue his monologue. “Hyung I really don’t remember what I said or did yesterday but I’m really sorry. I’m sorry that you were the one who probably had to drag me back. I’m sorry if I called your mom a whore or something insulting like that. I’m really sorry that I got drunk I just wanted to let loose a bit since I knew today was our day off and all and I just-” 

“Minho,” Chan signed, cutting him off while placing his cup of coffee to the side. “I don’t care that you got drunk. You’re a kid in their 20s of course you’re going to get drunk, of course you're going to want to have fun and party. Of course you’re going to want to test the waters, heck I’ve done that, but what you said yesterday wasn’t just an insult to me, it was an insult to Stray Kids.” 

“But hyung I really don’t know what I said I-” 

“You said you were leaving Stray Kids.” The awkward tense silence from the start of the conversion had returned after Chan had uttered that statement. 

“I didn’t mean it” Minho started with a deep inhale as he began to recall the events of last night. “It was a stupid dare, I wanted to do something shocking. No one really knew me or my idol status and I wanted to shock them so I picked something I knew was hurtful. I know that doesn’t excuse what I said but I really am sorry hyung. Oh my god I am just awful.” Minho said, dropping his head in shame. 

No matter how angry Chan wanted to remain, his nature was just too kind for that, perhaps if he had been tougher on him at that point he could have prevented Minho from spreading further down into his problems. But he didn’t yell at him, he simply stated “I know. I know you didn’t mean it. I just wanted you to take accountability for what you said. The kids need you Minho, I need you Minho.” 

With wide eyes Minho looked up and was met with Chan’s sad concerned eyes. With Chan he was never affectionate aside from the occasional pats on the back and playful punches but at this moment he felt the overwhelming urge to lean forward into Chan’s chest. 

“I really am sorry.” Minho said simply with a slightly quivering voice. He felt his eyes tear up against his wishes. A comforting hand, similar to the one he had felt last night, brought its way up to his hair. Soft strokes caressed his hair and tears continued to make their way out of his eyes. It was Minho’s silent sniffles which motivated Chan to wrap his free arm around the boy leaning into his chest into a secure hug. 

“It’s okay.” Chan said whilst tightening his grasp. “It’s really okay” the oldest repeated and leaned his head to rest atop the head of the younger stationed beneath him. “I forgive you,” came in a softer tone, “Just don’t do it again.” 

“I promise I won’t hyung. I promise I won’t let it be a problem.”


	2. I Dare You to Tell Me Otherwise

Except it did happen again. 

And Minho was slipping and slipping fast. 

Instead of going to parties, the dancer started bringing liquor into the dorm. A blind eye was generally given surrounding the increased amount of alcohol that had appeared gradually in the refrigerator and the pantry. No one questioned it because everything seemed fine. Everyone continued to be their quirky personalities on camera and their hardworking and determined selves off of camera. 

It wasn’t until small tremors started plaguing the dancer’s hands did Jisung start to get worried, it wasn’t until dizzy spells began to interfere with Minho’s ability to dance did Hyunjin start to research the effects of alcohol dependency, and it wasn’t until the young adult’s temper revealed itself through shouts during practice sessions when someone messed up or during dinners when someone rubbed Minho the wrong way even at the simplest of gestures like talking or eating too loud did Seungmin start to avoid Minho. 

But still no one interfered because no one knew how to interfere. No one knew how to bring the topic up without causing an outburst from the dancer in question and o one knew how they could help Minho get back on a healthy track. The more time they spent pondering, the more Minho continued to slip. 

They had been practicing their comeback dance just as their schedule premiated, nothing seemingly out of the ordinary had occurred thus far. Sweat thoroughly coated their skins and dampened their hair as heavy synchronized footsteps stomped down onto the worn out dance floor. Counts of beats were being shouted out by the main dancer who had been leading the practice smoothly. No major arguments or mistakes had been made which preserved the fragile peace present in the practice room. 

That was until a ten minute break had been declared by the said main dancer and most of the boys scurried off to divulge themselves in a much deserved bottle of water. Two or so members had left to either use the bathroom or wash their faces with cold water which would surely refresh them, but who Minho could not tell. Carefully, Minho had made his way towards his designated practice bag and sat down next to the bag on the same worn out floor they had just been dancing on. Unzipping the small front pocket, Minho looked around and saw that everyone remaining in the room was occupied or not paying him any mind. Grabbing hold of a flask he had secretly placed in the morning, in a quick motion he poured the cruel liquid down his parched throat. He was hyper aware of how his clammy fingers had wrapped themselves around the shiny metal of the unforgiving bottle. After a short period of relief he felt following throwing back the brown pigmented whiskey, Minho regretted his decision as he felt a burning sensation starting to creep up. 

What he hadn’t seen was Hyunjin’s betrayed eyes attempting to burn holes into him, nor did he see the suspecting boy advancing towards him with powerful determined steps. Before Minho could return the flask to the inner pocket of his bag a strong hand had grasped his wrist which attached to the ligament was the offending item. Looking up and seeing Hyunjin’s disappointed glare, Minho couldn’t seem to rack his brain enough to come up with an excuse so he resorted to the next best thing, being defensive. 

“Let go.” Minho said in a low daring voice that threatened Hyunjin to defy his command. 

“No,” Hyunjin responded with a much louder and and a much more frustrated tone, “you don’t bring that shit here!”

The volume of Hyunjin’s rightful outburst had attracted the attention of everyone in the room and for the first time since he had declared a break Minho noticed the absence of Chan and Jeongin. Eyes looked at the pair and darted down at the piece of metal still clutched in Minho’s hand. Varying degrees of disappointment, anger, and concern flashed their eyes. Minho swore he could see a glimpse of fear in Seungmin’s eyes. 

What should have been a reality check fueled his unjust anger further and in an even lower madder tone Minho had repeated the cursed phrase, “Let go.” 

Hyunjin had never been genuinely scared of Minho before. Sure he occasionally flinched when Minho had playfully threatened to hit him after he purposefully annoyed and pulled pranks on the older, but never had Hyunjin been afraid of the older. Never had he flinched and pondered about Minho’s intent after words or an action had occurred. As his bravado slipped his grasp on Minho’s wrist had also slipped and a wave of nervousness ran through him. 

As soon as Hyunjin’s hold had slacked Minho proceeded to immediately snatch his arm away from the boy and calmly returned the unconventional bottle to his bag all while giving the younger boy still standing near him a nastly glare so unlike Minho had ever given. 

Giving his cause one last attempt before his stern stature had fully slipped away, Hyunjin pleaded, “Hyung...please, you need to stop this. It’s not healthy…” 

Loud obnoxious laughter soon erupted from Minho that forced Hyunjin to subconsciously step back. "Not healthy Jinnie? Not healthy?" Minho spat out bitterly forcing the boy to fully retreat back to the closest person besides Minho which happened to be Changbin. 

Changbin immediately wrapped a protective arm around Hyunjin and slightly tucked the now scared boy into his chest. Returning a daring glare of his own to Minho, Changbin couldn't help but subconsciously station himself protectively between the unpredictable dancer and the rest of his younger brothers. 

"Tell me what about our lifestyle is healthy to begin with. Do you think running on less than 20 hours of sleep a week is healthy? What about all the caffeine everyone drinks just to keep themselves awake, is that healthy? Is overworking our bodies to the point of relying on painkillers and muscle relaxers just so we can practice and perform healthy? Of course it's not! None of this is healthy! But we do it anyway and you know danm well why we still do it, because we need to...we need to be the perfect fucking idol everyone can look up so don't you dare tell me something I already know because you don't see me going around and judging you on how you cope with this bullshit of an industry!" 

Silence followed only to be broken with a dramatic sigh as Minho placed his head down onto his shielding hands. 

"At least none of us are an alcoholics." Seungmin said so meekly that half of the room didn't even catch his remark. 

But Minho did. Head snapping towards the source of the voice, Minho gave Seungmin an unprecedented scowl that rivaled that of the glare he had given Hyunjin just minutes prior. Seungmin slightly retreated into himself and everyone knew another argument was about to break out. 

Yet everything seemed to halt as the door to the practice room opened and Jeongin and Chan walked in. Sensing the tension with a quick scan of the room, Chan wanted to address it but absolutely no one was meeting his eyes. Minho was shooting the boys across the room from him a venturesome look daring them to inform Chan, everyone on the receiving end of the glare was either looking away or at the floor save for Changbin who had been glaring right back at Minho with the same disdainful look.

Closing the door, Chan broke the silent stand off by resuming practice by calling out a firm yet hesitant, "Well...let's get back to practice then."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! The next chapter will be coming out much faster then this one and it's another angsty one! 
> 
> Comments and Kudos are encouraged and greatly appreciated!


	3. Just a Sip

Awkward was an understatement as to the sour and tense mood that had followed the events of the practice room. 

No one wanted to step too much on anyone’s toes in fear of a large fight breaking out that would very well threaten the fragile state of the team. Minho didn’t talk to anyone unless they spoke to him first and it was very rarely anyone spoke to him besides Jeongin who, save his heart, was oblivious to the circumstances. 

Practice went on as usual with Minho firmly leading. His directions were void of any jokes and were unpleasantly temperamental but everyone knew it was better than another fight. If breaks were called no one mentioned the flask that would be thrown back quickly despite the boy’s attempt to hide it. The occasional shakiness of Minho’s hands were ignored even though at times it threatened the precision of the entire dance. 

Suffocating was the only way Minho could describe his relationship with the other members. Jeongin was the only member that Minho could find himself breathing around, the only member that still treated him the same, who gave him good morning smiles and came into his room skipping, though he always knocked to give Minho enough time to hide his liquor bottles. Jeongin was the only one Minho let hug him and the only one who dared to try hugging him. He figured it was all because the other members eventually told Chan about what had happened in the practice room and collectively decided to preserve Jeongin’s innocence by not telling him, but whatever the case was Minho decided not to dwell too much on it 

One random afternoon Minho and Jeongin were lodging around in the kitchen. All of the other members either had individual practices or schedules and the rest were simply out leaving Minho and Jeongin at the dorms. Jeongin had succeeded in intentionally distracting Minho from drinking. From begging Minho to help him decorate some of Felix’s cookies, to forcing Minho to watch a random movie with him and laying across his lap to stop him from getting up, Jeongin kept Minho’s mind preoccupied and happy enough that for a long time he didn’t feel the need to drink. 

But with anyone who is addicted to a substance without actively seeking help, the jitters in his hands just got too much. His brain just didn't seem to want to cooperate and Minho swore that he could feel every electrical current used to operate his brain vibrating. Excusing himself from the couch to ‘use the bathroom’ Minho made his way to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of vodka. Not wanting to chug it, Minho decided that it would be better just to pass it off as a glass of water and made his way back to his spot on the couch next to Jeongin.

Jeongin was innocent but he wasn’t naive and so he couldn’t help but ask the question that everyone wanted to ask, “Why do you drink hyung?” 

If it had been anyone else asking that question Minho would have for sure thrown a fit but didn't because it was Joengin, because it was his maknae. The boy's eyes were filled with nothing but sad curiosity, there wasn't any menace or anger in his question, just wonder. 

Taking a final sip of the cup filled with vodka, Minho placed the cup down onto the table in front of them and begun to answer, "Well Jonginnie," he patted his thighs lovingly, "It's like when you wake up and feel like the day is going to be horrible so you buy yourself your favorite coffee in the morning to keep you going or like when you're having a really bad day so you stop by the bakery and buy yourself a pastry to cheer yourself on. Drinking, it's like that except you can make everything bad go away even if it is just for a handful of hours, for a couple of minutes, even just for a split second. You feel energized. Like you can talk to anyone, like you can do any dance, go anywhere and be fine, you feel invincible. You get so used to that powerful feeling that you become dependent on it. If you go too long without it your hand starts to shake. Your mind begins to get all nervous and you get so dizzy that sometimes you don't think you can get out of bed but in the back of your mind you know something can solve that. Drinking. Even though you know it's bad for you, even know you know you're going to regret it the next day when your head is pounding ten times worse than what it was without it, you want to feel good in that moment, you want to do your job well, so you tell yourself 'I'm just going to drink a little bit, just enough for me to get through the day', but soon that little bit doesn't get you where you need to be any more so you keep drinking more and more just to get that same fun feeling you had the first time you got drunk. And sometimes you hate yourself because you know it's bad, how can you not when everyone around you keeps telling you that, keeps judging you with their eyes, but you just can't seem to stop no matter how many promises you make to yourself that you'll become sober." 

Silence followed Minho's answer and for a second he didn't notice Jeongin's soft crying because he himself was busy trying to force the small tears that had slipped out back into his eyes. A soft sniffle to the left of him broke him out of his pathetic attempt of trying to remain strong and he saw his maknae wiping his tears with the sleeves to his slightly oversized sweater. 

Opening his arms with the intent of hugging the crying younger, Jeongin took it upon himself to spring into Minho's hold the minute he had been invited. As Minho felt Jeongin curing his body around his torso, he could help but tighten his grasp on the maknae. 

"That's why I drink Jonginnie, because I can't help it anymore." Minho finished his little story with a voice crack that slipped out of him subconsciously. 

After a while of Jeongin silently crying and Minho holding him while also battling his own tears, Jeongin looked up and made eye contact with Minho for the first time since he had asked the question that had perpetuated the crying state they were currently in. Wiping Minho's stray tears using the same oversized sweater sleeves that he had wiped his own tears with minutes prior, Jeongin let out a small smile that was enough to make Minho perk up just a bit. Silence continued to drown out all of the unasked questions and necessary conversations that they should have been having. 

Looking up at Minho, Jeongin hesitated but asked nevertheless, "Can I-, Can I try some". 

And even though Minho's judgement had lately been clouded by his alcoholic tendencies, he still had enough sense in him to know that letting Jeongin drink could cause a spiral. 

"I don't know Innie, I don't want you to go through what I am going through. It's not fun. I never want you to feel like this." Minho reasoned gently while running his hands through Jeongin's hair. 

"Just a sip! I don't want to drink the whole thing, I just want to try and understand." Jeongin deflated. 

And maybe Minho should have defended his decision, maybe he should have been firm and refused to let the boy try the cursed liquid, but he knew in the back of his head that Jeongin was still too young to have acquired a drinkers palate, he was still too innocent to enjoy the highly concentrated and bitter vodka. 

Retrieving the same vodka filled cup from the living room table and holding it away Jeongin for the time being, Minho leveled his look towards Jeongin and firmly warned, "Only a little sip." 

Nodding, Jeongin showed that he accepted the terms and held out his pinky, "I promise hyung." 

The innocence of it all made Minho smile a bit. Using the hand that wasn't holding the alcohol, the hand that was connected to the arm that was currently wrapped around Jeongin, Minho held up his own pinky and sealed the unwritten promise. 

Jeongin held the cup in both hands as Minho passed it to him. He started by holding the cup up to the light trying to examine the clear liquid particles. Then Jeongin held it up to his nose and sniffed the cup's contents which made him scrunch up his nose at the strong unpleasant pure alcoholic smell that invaded his senses. 

Cute. Jeongin's innocence was cute and it made Minho wonder when he had lost his own innocence, when he stopped scrunching his nose up at the pungent smell of alcohol, when he had stopped looking at liquor as a foreign entity and had accepted it as a familiar friend. 

Preoccupied with observing Jeongin, Minho didn't notice the front door opening. It wasn’t until Jeongin started bringing the liquor upto his mouth did a loud objective cry of, “What the hell do you think you’re doing!” did Minho notice the presence of his members in the room. 

Changbin had been the one to shout and made his way across the room to scowl at Minho. Poor Jeingin had been so startled by the shout that he dropped the glass cup onto the hardwood floor. The glass broke dramatically upon impact and the hazardous shards scattered about the floor along with the perpetrating alcohol. The dangerous mess on the floor didn't seem to stop Chnagbin’s charge towards Minho and neither did Jeongins' scared and shaky look. 

Placing Jeongin to the side of him in an attempt to save the boy from getting too mixed up in the argument he knew was going to break out in a matter of seconds, Minho decided to scan the room. He noticed Felix moving to wrap Jeongin in a protective hug and him guiding the youngest away from the two angry alpha males. A glare that Minho didn't think Felix was capable of making was reserved for him as the young Australian burned holes into him while he placed Jeongin behind him. Minho also noticed Seungmin awkwardly standing near the door frame and heard him hesitantly excusing himself to the kitchen to get a broom to clean up the glass shards on the floor but besides those two members and Changbin, no one else seemed to be home. 

Grabbing Minho's collar and pulling him up off of the couch, Chnagbin forced Minho to meet his eyes and saw red by doing so. “Just because you are an alcoholic doesn’t mean you have to drag the whole team down with your sorry excuse of a lifestyle, especially not Jeongin.” Changbin seethed.

And if Minho wasn't seeing the red that Changbin saw before, he sure was now. Bringing his hands up to grasp where Changbin was holding him up via his collar, Minho returned Changbin's grip with a warning grip of his own. 

"First of all, let go," Minho growled. When Chnagbin didn’t back down and tightened his grip on the fabric of his shirt, Minho felt something snap inside of him and he pushed Changbin off of him. Sending the producer tumbling back, Changbin tripped on the leg of the table as he bumped into the edge of said table. Tumbling down onto the broken glass, his hands instantly reached out to steady himself, but that proved to be more harm than good as the glass found itself piercing the unprotected skin of his hands. Changbin’s wince did make Minho rethink the situation they were currently in but Changbin was still far too worked up for Minho to even begin developing his guilt. 

Minho did however notice a frozen Seungmin at the pathway of the kitchen holding a broomstick in fear but, once again, Minho was too prideful and hurt by Chnagbin’s comments to back down now. 

“Second of all,” Minho pointed at the now injured boy with narrowed eyes, “I didn’t force Jeongin to do anything, the kid asked for a sip. You think I want him to go through any of the shit I’m going through? You think that I want the one person in this fucking team that still treats me like a perosn to hate me?” 

“And do you think Jeongin is old enough to make that decision for himself? He can’t even drink legally yet!” Chnagbin spat out while forcing himself to stand up despite the emese pain he felt from his bleeding hands. 

“It was a sip Changbin! It's not like I made him take shots, it was a small curious ship that absolutely every kid his age has asked for and tried!” Minho shouted back at the slightly younger out of pure frustration. He felt like he was always going to be the bad guy in his member’s eyes and he didn't know what to do to change that. 

“Is that how it started with you? Was it ‘just a sip’ Minho?” Changbin said he no longer shouting but attacked Minho much more painfully than he could have yelled with that personal statement.

Not wanting to eculate things further but knowing he wasn’t in the right mindset to stop the situation himself, Minho did the one thing he could do, walk away. However, the anger boiling inside of him still clouded his judgement and Minho couldn’t help but slap his hand on the same table that once held the cup of vodka that rested upon it and the same table that Changbin had bumped into and tripped on as he made his way towards his room with powerful, angry footsteps. 

Slamming the door shut Minho laid down on his bed, on his stomach, and couldn't help but let out a frustrated scream into his pillow that did little a good job muffling his screams. Punching the mattress until he was too tired to continue, Minho flipped himself over to lay down on his back and used his arm to cover his eyes. 

Lost in thought Minho barely registered the door being opened and nervous foot steps making their way towards him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know if I am portraying Minho's drinking problem unrealistically or incorrectly. I have never had a drinking issue so I am going off of my personal research and the experiences of my friends with similar issues. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! 
> 
> Comments and Kudos are always appreciated and encouraged!


	4. Boring

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please read the end notes :)

It was ironic. 

Part of the reason why Minho started drinking was to be sociable, to help loosen him up, but now the same comforting liquid that had once soothed him was slowly killing him. His once relaxed shoulders were now stiff with tension. His true friends, his members, who once enjoyed interacting with him and his presence now held the same stiffness in their shoulders that he held except theirs was because they were uncomfortable. 

It was uncomfortable.

The smile that he plastered on his face when the cameras were rolling was uncomfortable and for the first time since becoming an idol Minho began to wonder when he had become so fake. Every interaction had become uncomfortable. Every correction given during practice was uncomfortable. Every confrontation about his problem was uncomfortable. 

It was a problem. 

"If you are here to lecture me, now is not the time." MInho grumbled from his bed, still not opening his eyes to see who the presence in the room belonged to. 

"Um…" Seungmin. It belonged to Seungmin. 

“I-I just wanted to make sure you were o-okay.” Seungmin stuttered and it was odd because in all the years Minho had known Seungmin he couldn't recall a time where Seungmin hadn’t been confident with his words. 

It was that stuttered that prompted Minho to open his eyes and inspect Seungmin. Minho had always been observant, his catlike eyes scanned the room and always calculated. He noticed how Seungmin fiddled with his fingers, a sign of nervousness, and how his eyes refused to meet his own. Minho knew that Seungmin was scared of him and he couldn’t handle it. 

“Just peachy.” Minho let out a sarcastic laugh which, in his defense, if it had been anyone older then Seungmin would have likely come out alot more aggressive and might have even warranted a physical and careless shove out of his room. 

Nevertheless Seungmin visibly flinched at Minho’s tone and it had somehow triggered something in Minho that made him angrier than he was before. He would never admit it to anyone but Minho was secretly glad that he wasn’t drunk, he didn’t know what he was like angry and drunk but whatever it was Minho hoped he and his members would never find out. 

“Are you nervous?” Minho began sitting up from his bed, “Do I make you a nervous puppy?” Minho seethed out the nickname and stood up as he saw Seungmin take an instinctively step back only to be stopped by the thin wall. 

"What? Are you scared of me? Is it my alcoholic fucking breath? My 'unstable temper'?" Minho advanced and cornered Seungmin against the wall. 

Arms incaged Seungmin as Minho roughly slammed his hand on the area near the wall that Seungmin was currently trying to merge himself into. But Minho didn't yank Seungmin's arms into his grasp and sandwich them between his unforgiving hold and the cold wall, he left the boy's arms free. 

"Come on, say something! Anything! Push me off, yell at me, call me a fucking disgrace!" Minho borderline begged. 

Bringing his face closer to Seungmin's out of frustration and wanting to speculate the boy's next possible move. When Seungmin said nothing and looked down further at the floor in an attempt to escape, Minho couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't take knowing he was the reason for the fear and anxiousness of his younger brother. He couldn't take feeling like an outsider, like a monster, in a place he once called home, a place he desperately wanted to feel like home again. 

A whimper from the cornered boy broke Minho out of his self pitying thoughts. Speculating that more whimpers would follow, Minho didn't waste time finding out. Instead he did something he had been doing since the start of this whole mess. 

Running away. Letting out his anger at the poor wall, because he would never consciously and actually lay a finger on Seungmin, a whole was punched into the wall. Unfortunately, the punch has sent a picture frame crashing down onto the already fearful boy. It seemed as though luck wasn't on his side at all today. 

Not wanting to stick around to see Seunhmin clutching his head in a weak attempt protect himself from the very person, from Minho himself, who swore from day one to always defend his brothers, not wanting to hear the cries turn into sobs as Seungmin increasingly became distraught, Minho ran. 

He should have stayed. Stayed and calmed down, stayed and crouched down to where Seungmin was reduced to and ask...no beg for forgiveness, stayed and comforted Seungmin and patched him up not only physically due to any marks the unintentional frame had caused, but also patched his relationship up with his younger brother and kissed the hopefully not bruised top of his head. 

Minho knew he should have and felt immensely guilty for it but he also knew no matter how much he wanted to fix everything, he couldn't. Whether it was because he was too weak or because he was convinced that it was a hopeless attempt Minho didn't have enough energy to ponder. 

He knew Seungmin would be fine, Seungmin unlike him was strong and had people who loved him. 

So he kept running. 

Minho remembered his life as boring. Such a foreign word to him now in the chaos that took over the identity known as his current life. But once upon his early life Minho's life was simple, normal...boring. 

Too boring. Too average. 

From a young age Minho had always been an adrenaline junky. His parents were clueless as to where he had gotten all of his mischievous nature from. After all, both of Minho's parents were average nine to five workers, they were church goers,and they had loved Minho nearly but struggled to keep his cheeky side under control. 

Minho hated routines. He hated doing mundane tasks over and over again until some freak event, accident, or age took him out. Rebelling was the only way Minho knew how to break that unwanted cycle. He would talk excessively in class, ask to use the bathroom and never come back, or would just plain never show up. But Minho's parents had stressed a routine, they stressed a stable course of action, so Minho found a way for him to get around his parents' preachings. 

Dance routines. At first his parents had complained that dancing wasn't stable enough to be considered a routine, and at best it was an expungeable art, it was only until Minho had begun succeeding at his outlet did they bite the bullet and stop pestering him.

Even though it wasn't the same unchanging cycle a nine to five job provides, in a way it required more discipline than a tedious office job could ever. Afterall it required a strong discipline to keep the body in line with the routine itself. Movements had to be sharp and precise, so precise intact that rulers and tape measures were busted out on more than one occasion. 

But at the same time it was being on stage that satisfied his need for adrenaline. Hundreds of eyes staring at him, wanting to be entertained, no expecting to be entertained, judged his every move. Not everyone was cut out for the stage, some would clam up and freeze, others would throw up out of nervousness before or after the stage, but not Minho. He thrived in the pressure, to him it was like taunting an authority all whole proving them wrong simultaneously.

That wasn't to say that Minho never got nervous. When monthly evaluations came and passed a possibility of removing him from the company he was scared, Park Jinyoung had asked Minho to rap out of the blue he was petrified, when the public final voting had been announced to determine wherever the members were going to debut as seven or nine he was praying to every god and higher power out there. 

Nevertheless, dancing never made him nervous, in some ways many argued that it made him cocky and too over confident but Minho aways reasoned that he needed something to specialize and to make up for all the nervousness he felt surrounding singing and rapping. 

The idol life helped provide even more of a disciplined and unaverage lifestyle. It was the perfect mixed for him since maintaining his public image, health, and skills was enough discipline to keep him in line while the creative side of coming up with choreography, making witty jokes in front of the camera, and just having an outlet of dancing on stage in front of all of those eyes gave him the adrenaline he craved.

On days where Minho questioned if he had in fact gone down the right career path and wondered if he had actually been cut out for this, Minho secretly prided himself for turning to dance as an outlet as opposed to drugs and a crime which from a young age he believed he would eventually end up mixed into at one point. He wasn't sure he had the right to pride himself on that any more however. 

One place Minho had always escaped to when he was younger was a secluded abandoned house, though Minho wasn't sure he could even call it that by how small it was in size. Sandwiched between an alleyway the home is hidden in the pocket of the left wall and Minho liked to imagine how the place came to be to begin with. Minho always imagined it was made by someone, a runaway teen or a young adult that couldn't cope with society enough and wanted to hide away. What had happened to the person who made it would change depending on Minho's mood. Sometimes he hoped the creator stumbled across a new reason to give them hope and that somewhere today they had found love, maybe a kid too, or maybe they found stray cats to adopt like him. Other times what had happened to the original owner of the secret house was dark, he wondered if they had been killed by the whole trying to get food, injured beyond preparation while trying to find a place to shower, maybe even kidnapped one night and left to suffer more pain then they had originally run away from. 

Minho had first discovered the abandoned location when he was running away from an angry middle-aged store owner who had been chasing him for stealing a candy bar. Having made an incorrect turn into a dead end, he let out a frustrated huff thinking that he was trapped and would be caught soon. While going to lean against the wall, Minho tumbled back. It seemed as though it was actually a hidden door. The place was small, simple, and old. It only had a could of broken wooden chairs and only got its light from the cracks that littered its poor ceiling. But it was good enough for Minho so he kept running towards it. 

Running. That's all Minho could. Zooming through the streets relying on the muscle memory from years ago to guide him to his unsafe safe house. Minho hadn't felt the need to disappear for years, hadn't gone to his little hideout in years, never felt the need to tell his members about it because for a while even he had forgotten about it. 

Minho could feel the vibrations of his phone bussing with calls, texts, and notifications but he paid no mind to them, he just kept running and running until eventually he ran down the very alleyway he had been subconsciously searching for. 

He had absolutely no idea how long he had been running for but he was too tired to care or check. Feeling around for the hidden door he pushed it open once he had felt its thin material, a striking contrast from the rest of the alleyway's thick walls. 

Taking one quick look at the seemingly unchanging room Minho wasted no time sinking to the floor in loud gasps. In hindsight, the location probably wasn't as safe as Minho felt it was, for all he knew it could have been found by some gang and used as a hideout for smuggling illegal substances. 

It took a long time for Minho to catch his breath but he didn't care. Here it felt like time didn't matter, like his problem didn't matter. Closing his eyes and slipping into an exhausted slumber, Minho felt his body shaking like an annoying plea for booze only to be riviles by the annoyance brought on by the constant buzzing of his phone that was begging to be answered. He didn't know what the messages or the voicemails said or even how they said it but he knew two things for sure, 

Minho wished his life was boring again and he really needed a drink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, thank you for reading! 
> 
> I've been thinking lately about starting a larger (likely a minimum of 10 chapters and 30k words) and slightly darker/angstier work with an NCT mafia au but I'm not sure. Maybe I'll try and turn it into a collaborative work to lessen the writing burden and bounce ideas off one another but I don't know if anyone would be interested (totally leave a comment if you would). Please leave any input in the comments. 
> 
> Last, I may not respond to every single comment but please know that I do see all of them and really appreciate them! 
> 
> As always, Comments and Kudos are greatly appreciated and encouraged, stay tuned for the next chapter!


	5. What's More Important?

Help. 

Seungmin was just trying to help. Just like how Seungmin had tried helping his dad. 

Growing up in a loving house, that was a loving house until his mother decided to leave his father for a younger and less burdened man and his father took alcohol in as his new companion, Seungmin could not help but think his story was cliche. 

Knowing that the same excuse would come out of his dad every time he confronted him, the excuse of "alcohol helps me pay the bills", Seungmin never knew how to help his dad. 

He had gotten so tired of picking up after his bilgeranet father every day after school. He always tried to get through to his dad but always ended up hurting himself in the process. 

One night Seungmin decided that that was the night where this was all going to end. He just did not expect it to end so painfully. 

After countlessly stressing to his dad the health and mental implications of his addiction and his dad continuously brushing it off as no big deal, Seungmin had gotten frustrated.

"What's more important to you? Me or the alcohol?" 

The response that came was one he would never forget. 

"Of course it's alcohol, ah my baby liquor can do nothing wrong." His father replied in his drunken state as he brought his liquor bottle up to his lips and pressed a soft kiss on the cold undeserving drink. 

And Seungmin snapped. 

It was unfair. Alcohol couldn't pick up after him. Alcohol couldn't look out for his well being. Alcohol couldn't love him. 

But Seungmin could. 

And yet his father had chosen alcohol over him. 

'This isn't fair!', Seungmin couldn't help but think to himself as he stared at his father currently showering the alcohol bottle in his hand with more love then he had given him in years. 

Why could he not get the same love his father gave liquor? Why could he not get the same affection? The same attention and sacrifices? 

He couldn't hate his father, no matter how badly he wanted to, he could never hate his father. 

But he hated alcohol. 

It was alien to him as his limbs seemed to move robotically and before he knew it he had snatched the offending bottle out of his dad's hands and, with as much force possible, smashed it onto the hard floor underneath them. 

Maybe Seungmin was foolish for expecting anything other than his father's rage in response to his actions. Maybe he was foolish in thinking that his father would never lay a finger on him. Maybe he should have known better. 

But Seungmin did know one thing. He knew that the minute a hardened punch had connected to his face that today was going to be the last day he was going to stay in his childhood home. 

Even though him and his father had often gotten into screaming matches, Seungmin's father had never laid a hand on him up until that point. 

It was the final straw. 

Marching his way up his stairs he grabbed his prepackaged duffle bag that held his entire life within it and, without looking back, Seungmin left. 

Seungmin had always been looking for a way out and he had finally found one. Being accepted into JYP entertainment ment that he had the option of dorming. An option that would have expired if he chose not to check in during their two week moving period, time allotted to work out any needed school, medical, and financial transfers, for new trainees. 

In theory, he still had a week left to decide but Seungmin knew if he stayed after he had been so hurt that day that he would never move forward. 

Seungmin still didn't hate his father. He still sent him money on holidays hoping that it would help with the bills and not fuel his addiction, but one thing that continued to hurt was how his father never made any contact with him, never went to any of his concerts, never bragged about him to any of his friends or coworkers. 

But Seungmin was okay now. He had learned to accept his father for who he was and who he was a person who could not be helped because he did not want any help. He had learned to be okay because he was miles away. Away from all his drunken behaviors. 

Except now he felt like he was reliving it all over again with his new family, but instead this time it was with his older brother, his member, and he felt like he just could not escape. 

Rocking back and forth in the same spot he had been cornered in, the same spot where an old picture frame had come down on his head, Seungmin felt as though there were weighted magnets keeping him in his little balled up poster. 

His head hurt and he was not sure if it hurt because of the voices trying to call out to him or the picture frame that had come toppling down onto his head.  
~  
Felix was overwhelmed. From having a sobbing maknae in his holds to hearing Changbin's and Minho's argument followed by countless thuds ranging from pushing to door slamming and finally the sound of an object being knocked to the floor and a final slam that eerily silenced the shattered doom, Felix was completely and utterly overwhelmed. 

He did not know how to fix everything that had been broken in a matter of mere minutes. There was so much to fix and he did not even know where to start. 

So he did what he thought was best. Felix called Chan with the hand that was not currently acting as Jeongin's support and begged him to come home. When the older Australian had asked what was wrong, Felix did not exactly know how to answer so with a shaky voice he had bypassed the question and pressed Chan to come home once more. 

Felix did not trust his voice enough to handle making two more phone calls so he settled for sending Jisung and Hyunjin a quick 'come home right now' text and waited anxiously. 

The first one to come home was Hyunjin and in a way Felix was glad Hyunjin was the first one home for the sole fact that he could take over comforting Jeongin. It wasn't that Felix was bad at comforting people per say, but rather it was because Felix wasn't sure how much longer he could keep a straight and unaffected face up. 

"Oh my god! What happened?" Hyunjin asked in shock and he hastily dropped his dance bag at the door as soon as he came into the bedroom that Jeongin and Felix were currently occupying, likely because it was the closest room to the living room.

"The entire living room looks like a hurricane just hit it and-" Hyunjin stopped his rambling, a habit he had adopted when he was secretly nervous, as soon as he saw a still very much distraught Jeongin still clinging into Felix. 

"Oh Innie…" Hyunjin said sadly as he made his way over to the crying boy, "It's okay, I've got you." 

Taking Jeongin out of Felix's hold, Hyunjin began comforting the distraught boy. Felix gave Hyunjin a grateful look to which the boy simply nodded. 

Heading out to the livingroom Felix could finally let out a sigh laced with stress, anxiousness, and worry all in one. Inspecting the living room Felix found that Hyunjin had in fact been right. It did look like a hurricane had passed through their dorm. Not only had glass been everywhere but the table had been knocked backwards and was now laying on its side dangerously close to their TV. The couch was crooked looking as if someone had bulldozed through the path where the couch laid instead of simply walking around it. 

Taking a second to compose himself Felix could not help but crouch down into himself and close his eyes as he let his arms, which rested on his knees, carry the weight of his head. 

After a minute or so Felix stood back up. Blank eyes from the kitchen counter stared into him and Felix flinched at the realization of Changbin's presence. Changbin had just been staring straight onwards and Felix couldn't help but notice that his fists were clenched...and they were bleeding. 

Making his way towards the quiet boy, Felix would be lying if he said he wasn't a little creeped out by how unresponsive Changbin was being. 

"Hyung…" Felix gently tried with no veil. 

Trying again Felix grabbed Changbin's hand in hopes that he would release his own self inflicting grip but was horrified to find him clenching his fists harder. 

But once again Felix was praising his decision to text Jisung to come home because at that exact moment a hand was placed on his shoulder. 

Concerned eyes met his own and he could tell the boy had a million burning questions. 

Instead he got a soft, "Hey lixie, could you go get us a first aid kit?" 

Jisung's voice was not assertive per say but it held a seriousness that forced Felix's limbs to start moving. And Jisung, just like him, was not an expert in any aspect of this current situation but he was, at the moment, more present and level headed. 

Making his way out of the kitchen he heard Jisung speak a soft, "Hi hyung, it's been a rough night huh? But it's okay. We'll be just fine, just you and me, Jisungie and Changbinnie sitting in the kitchen half wall…" 

Felix could not exactly tell what Jisung was doing, but if he were to guess, he assumed that Jisung was trying to get Changbin to stop disassociating. Whether he was disassociating from himself or from the situation, Felix did not know. 

Nevertheless, Felix wasted no time heading towards the closest bathroom as he knew every bathroom held at the very least a first aid stashed away in its overhead mirror cabinet for when they hurt themselves during practice. 

What did stop him in his tracks however, was a soft mumbling coming from Minho's room. 

Peaking into the suspicious area, Felix let out a little curse as he saw a rocking Seungmin curled up onto a ball mumbling something he could not quite catch. 

Cursing again, Felix hastily grabbed the first aid kit and quickly made his way to Jisung. 

Shockingly, when he re-entered the kitchen, he saw Changbin's hands no longer in a tight fist. Rather, one of Changbin's hands, palm facing upwards, had been in Jisung's own hand and the other in the same position on the half wall's countertop. 

Shooting a both grateful and apologetic look in Felix's direction, Jisung wasted no time pulling out a pair of twisters and began taking out the glass shards that implanted his older brother's hands. 

Felix, taking Jisung's look as a sign that his job was done and he was no longer needed, exited the kitchen once more and began preparing his already frantic mind to deal with Seungmin. 

Luckily, the front door opened. Logically, Felix knew that it was Chan because the chances of Minho returning right now were slim to none, but Felix still could not help the relieved sigh that escaped him when he saw Chan entire the dorm. 

Felix could finally breathe, even if it was for a brief second.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! I apologize for how long this chapter took to post, I'm recovering from a slight concussion so my upload schedule has been thrown off abit. 
> 
> Anyways, I hoped you enjoyed the members perspective in this chapter! I was orginally supposed to combine this and the next chapter together but I wanted to get something out this week. The next chapter is supposed to be focused on Chan's perspective but please let me know if you want more of Jisung's/Changbin's or Hyunjin's/Jeongin's perspective too. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! As always, comments and kudos are greatly encouraged appreciated!


	6. Where's Eight?

Felix felt selfish. 

But even though Felix felt selfish, his want for comfort outweighed the guilt that came with selfishness. 

Turning around, Felix speed walked, practically ran, straight into Chan's comforting arms. 

Burying his face into Chan's broader chest, Felix let his eyes close and the situation fade for a second. 

"Hey," Felix heard Chan say but focused more on the hand that came to caress the back of his head, "thank you for holding down the fort sunshine." 

In reality, Chan did not know what the situation was. He could see a hit of Jisung attending to Changbin's hand in the kitchen and a glimpse of Hyunjin hugging Jeongin in the nearby bedroom, but he didn't know how they got to that point. 

But the sigh releasing tension from Felix's smaller body revealed that he had in fact said the right thing. 

Every leader in the industry could attest to counting their members to keep a mental track of who was present and who was absent. Chan was no exception. 

He made one. The boy in his arms made two. Jisung and Changbin made three and four. Hyunjin and Jeongin were five and six.

But who was missing? 

Seungmin and Minho. 

At the realization, Chan could not help but tense at the absence of the two. A thousand scenarios run through his mind as to where they were, but all he could do right now was rub the knots in Felix's back to comfort him into calmness. He hoped he could give Felix enough security that he could explain the situation since didn't want to ask those in the kitchen or the bedroom in fear that it might trigger more hysteria. 

And lucky, it had worked.

As Felix's breath leveled, the boy began to pull away and worried eyes met his eyes. 

"Seungmin. In Minho's room. He...help him." Felix said with an undertone of fanaticism as he started tugging Chan in the direction of the room. 

Taking off, Chan had half sprinted towards the location. His eyes immediately fell on a distressed Seungmin trying to comfort himself by rocking back and forth and if his heart was not already broken at the idea of his team fighting, it certainly was shattered now looking at the state of his younger member. 

'Seven,' Chan couldn't help but think, 'Seungmin made seven.'

Scanning the room and area around him, Chan noticed two things: a picture frame that once hung was lying next to Seungmin and Felix had followed him and was looking as though he might start to panic again. 

"Hey Lixie '' Chan said softly and waited for the younger Australian to meet his eyes, "Do me a favor and clean up the living room and when you're done get everyone to gather there okay? We need to have an urgent team meeting." 

Placing a hand on the boy's shoulder knowing that giving him a less daunting than comforting another person was the best way to manage Felix's anxiousness Chan added, "Can you do the for me koala?" for encouragement. 

Chan felt relieved as Felix gave a necessary nod and took off to do his assigned task without question. The relief quickly faded when he looked back inside the room and realized he still had a Seungmin to calm down and comfort. 

Opting to not waste anymore time pondering on the situation, Chan quickly made his way towards the young vocalist. 

Crouching down, Chan noticed that Seungmin was mumbling a concerning string of "stop it". Deciding to try and reach the boy by giving him familiar comforting words to hold onto, a whisper of, "Hey Minnie" escaped Chan's month. 

Tricky. Panic attacks were tricky. Chan was well aware of how touch and go trying to pull someone out of a panic attack was. Sometimes simple comforting words could pull the person out of their destructive headspace, other times they would just perpetuate the person deeper into their own hell. Sometimes all people wanted was to be held, other times a touch could make them feel trapped. Sometimes people could just ride out their panic because any comfort at all could postpone the end of the attack but other times leaving the person be increased the length of their self inflicting suffering. Chan knew all this. He had experienced it. 

But he also knew he had to try. He had to be attentive and focused, even more so than he usually was while making music, to catch all the hidden signs. The slight passing of breaths, the fierceness of hand tremors, the strength of the subconscious mumbles, Chan paid attention to it all and tried. 

"Hey Minnie," Chan said again, "It's Chan" he added and paused to look for a change in body language. 

Seeing none, Chan decided to continue verbally trying, "You're safe Minnie, I've got you okay? No one can hurt you. Everything is okay baby." 

Seungmin's mumbling of "stop" had slowed down to the point of stopping and Chan took that as a positive sign...at least Chan hoped it was a positive sign. 

Taking his next step, Chan slowly, as to not startle Seungmin by sudden movements, placed his hand on Seungmin's hands. 

Noticing that Seungmin's hands were concerningly clenching his head, Chan frowned and looked around. Eyes landed on the picture frame again. Looking up instinctively to think, his eyes landed on the hammered in nail that previously held the frame and he put two and two together. 

Placing his attention back on Seungmin he noticed that Seungmin's rocking had slowed, and again, he took it as a good sign. 

Combining his two tactics, Chan whispered comforting promises to the boy while gently caressing his hand. When he had run out of words to say, for a second Chan had worried that he had done everything wrong and worsened the boy's mental state. 

But Seungmin shocked him as he slowly stopped leaning his head on his knees and looked up. In the moment where all Seungmin did was stare at him, Chan held his breath at the pregnant pause of stillness. 

"H-Hyung?" Seungmin said in a broken voice that Chan had never heard Seungmin speak in. 

Nevertheless, Chan let his breath flow in a massive sigh, relieved at the small breakthrough. 

"Yeah baby, it's me. Channie hyung. I'm here for you okay, anyth-" Chan got cut off and almost lost his balance at a sudden body being thrown his way. 

"Oh puppy…" Chan comforted sadly as he wrapped his arms around Seungmin protectively. 

In a way, Seungmin thought it was ironic how a word that had previously made him feel threatened was now comforting him, but he was also too busy crying to actually voice his thoughts. 

Chan had never seen or heard Seungmin cry so hard. Even after the eliminations, after their first win, Seungmin had never cried so sadly before. The protective instant Chan felt increased at the sound of Seungmins cries and his grip tightened. A part of him however, was happy that Seungmin was letting his emotions out instead of bottling them up. 

Seungmin had never been so clingy or reliant before either, but he could not help himself as his hands clutched onto his leader's shirt and his head buried in Chan's shoulder. 

It took awhile for Seungmin to calm down but Chan didn't pressure him, he didn't ask what had happened, he just offered his much needed comfort and Seungmin was glad to take it. 

After Seungmin's cries died down, Chan, still softly patting his hair, gently proposed, "Minnie, I know you're probably not feeling well today and probably just want to curl up and sleep today but we really need to have a team discussion before things get worse. You don't have to say anything if you don't want to, okay? We just need to figure out something to hold onto." 

When no reply followed him Chan worried that it was too soon and maybe he should've just opted at leaving the talk for tomorrow but a small, "Will you stay with me hyung?", followed and Chan rushed to reassure it. 

Giving Seungmin a large squeeze of his shoulders Chan cooed slightly, "Of course I will pup, you're never alone okay? I'll be here." 

And that was all Seungmin needed. As he tried to stand up his legs felt like jelly and he stumbled a bit despite Chan's grip. 

Seungmin yelped a bit as Chan brought his hand over the Australian's shoulder and somehow managed to scoop him up into a secure backhug. 

"I got you pup." Chan reassured for the millionth time today and smiled as he felt Seungmin rest his head on his shoulder. 

Making his way to the living room, Chan noticed that Felix did a great job. The living room no longer looked like it was hit by a natural disaster and had five bodies littered around the couches. Chan was sure to reward Felix with a grateful tender pat as he deposited Seungmin next to the open center spot where he sat down at soon after. 

Immediately Seungmin began to cling to him but Chan did not mind. His mind automatically started counting the members however. 

He made one. Seungmin on the left of him made two. Felix on the right of him made three. Jisung on the right diagonal on the other couch made four. Jisung's hand connected to Changbins wrist making five. Jeongin on the opposite couch of them made six. Hyunjin, whose hands were busy petting Jeongin, made seven. 

Seven. Seven? 

Where was eight? 

"Where's Minho?" Chan asked worriedly. 

His worry only increase when his question was meet with silence and the air tensed. 

"Okay. Let's try something else then. What in the world happened?" Chan said louder in a firm voice that made a couple of the already shaken up kids flinch. 

He felt bad about it but right now he could not really afford to dwell on it. 

"I'll tell you what happened," Changbin spoke with a stone cold face, "that fucker tried to give Jeongin alcohol. He tried to drag Jeongin down the same fucking path he's dived head first into." Changbin seethed with so much venom that even Jisung who acted as his rock could not help but wince at his tone. 

Perhaps what was even more shocking was the response that followed. 

"Stop it! Just stop it!" Jeongin cried out and stood up zealously, "Stop treating Minho hyung like he's a bad person! He's not...it was my fault. I was the one who asked if I could take a sip even though he told me that it wasn't a good idea. He told me that it wasn't fun and he didn't want me to go through what he went through but I insisted that I just wanted a sip. Do you know that he went the entire day without drinking before that point? He's never done that before but he did it for me because we were just hanging out. When was the last time any of you even hung out with him?" 

Silent and frustrated tears were making their way down Jeongin's cheeks when he had finished his speech. 

Changbin with the same venom in his tone from before countered, "He's supposed to be our hyung! We're supposed to be able to rely on him but how can we? And how can we hang out with him if all he does is drink and become violent? He doesn't even want help. Look at what he did when Hyunjin tried to interfere." 

At the mention of violence Chan picked up how Seungmin tended. 

"Minnie," Chan's tone broke the argument that was both verbally and glaringly happening between the youngest and the rapper, "did Minho hurt you?" 

For a moment everyone forgot how to breathe because Seungmin who was always outspoken and confident was hiding behind Chan and would not come out. 

"Um...no. Not really. I just-" Seungmin paused because he really didn't know how to explain, he had never really gone into his past before because he didn't want to. 

"I'm not good with stuff like alcohol-" he continued but kept trailing off more then he wanted to, "My dad and I don't have a good relationship because of it and Minho didn't do anything...well he didn't mean to. I was scared and he was frustrated and didn't know why so he accidently knocked the picture frame down and it hit me but…" 

Trailing off once more Seungmin didn't make an effort to finish his thought because he felt like he didn't need to anymore. 

No one spoke for a minute, each processing the fabricated pieces of information together and just thinking. 

And if Chan was to be honest, he didn't know what to do or who's side to take or even who was in the right or wrong, but he knew that enough was enough. 

"Where's Minho?" Chan revisited the question this time with more priority. 

When silence filled the air again Chan sighed, "No one knows where he is? Okay well here's what we're going to do. We aren't going to move from here until everything is sorted and that included Minho." 

Taking out his phone, Chan pulled up Minho's contact and pressed the call button. 

It rang a few times before forwarding him to voicemail and it wasn't until Chan had tried calling two more times, five minutes after the other, did the other members start to get worried. 

From then until 2am everyone tried to contact Minho somehow and all of them failed one after another. 

Even Changbin tried after seeing Jisung start to panic over all the fictional scenarios the boy made up in his head after his attempts kept failing. 

"What if he got drunk somewhere and passed out? What if someone, a fan, found him? Oh my god what if he's hurt." Jisung mumbled to himself anxiously as Hyunjin, just as anxious, tried to calm him down. 

While Jisung was anxious in his attempts, Jeongin was just concerned, "Hyung…please just come home. We're- I'm worried about you. I'm sorry for not stopping Changbin hyung and the others...please come back home. I miss you." 

While Jeongin was worried, Hyunjin and Jisung were working themselves up to a panic, Felix couldn't help but pass back and forth, Seungmin was probably the worst out of all of them. 

The poor boy had literally made himself sick and was in the bathroom, with Chan, trying to calm his nerves. 

It was then that Changbin decided he needed to put his pride aside and help try contacting Minho.

"Hey," his voicemail started off uncertain, "I know you probably don't want to hear my voice but...look I'm just worried about you. Of course I'm fucking worried about you, you prick. I just want Minho back, I want you to teach me how to dance again without actually worrying about you getting angry and I want to hear your jokes and you laughs again…" this time when Changbin paused it wasn't out of uncertainty but it was because he had teared up and was trying to keep his voice from quivering, "Just come home." 

By the time Seungmin had finally calmed his stomach, he and Chan emerged back into the living room. The cries of "just come home" had faded and everyone was just left with varying degrees of dejectedness, worry, and sadness. 

'So long for trying to fix anything today' Chan thought bitterly. 

"Let's go to bed...sitting around here mopping isn't going to solve anything especially if we're all drained. Who knows, maybe he'll come back in the morning." Chan made the executive decision to have his other members rest because at the end of the day, while he was responsible for Minho, he was also responsible for six other younger brothers. 

With members protesting left and right about continuing to try, getting everyone to agree was more of a hassle then Chan liked to admit. 

What Chan didn't tell his younger brothers was that once he had made sure they all went to bed safely, he left the dorms and searched every possible place Chan thought Minho could possibly go to. 

And when the sun made it's way to rise, when he had not found him after searching for four hours, he had come back to the dorms in tears feeling like a failure of a leader. 

But he was not crying tears of self pity because all Chan could think about was, 'Where's Minho? Where's number eight?'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congratulations for making it through all (most) of the angst! It's uphill from here I promise. 
> 
> I hope the perspective changes weren't too confusing. 
> 
> I also hope you enjoyed this slightly longer chapter! As always thank you for reading, comments and kudos are appreciated and encouraged!


	7. Think

Waking up the next morning, all Minho could think about was how badly his head was pounding. 

It felt as though there were little people trapped in there and were stomping around in his head trying to escape, it felt like they were mocking him. 

Groaning Minho rubbed his eyes and tugged at his hair in frustration. After a couple of minutes, Minho dared to sit up and open his eyes. Instantly he was met with an illuminating light being emitted by his phone. 

Not daring to look at what the messages themselves contained, Minho paused at the amount of notifications he had. 

18 missed calls, 7 voice messages, and 23 texts. 

Without even reading or listening to any of the messages Minho already felt sheer regret wash over him. 

Confident. Minho had always been confident. It had been something he had been proud of and had always tried to maintain after he had felt so unconfident during the Stray Kids reality show. 

And it had done him well because even if he didn't have enough time to practice a certain move for a segment in a variety show, or if he did not got enough sleep one day, or even if he didn't know what to eat one night, being confident in his actions, in his choices, had always given him good results. 

But this time, for the first time since the show, Minho doubted the confidence he placed in his choices. 

If his alcohol consumption was his choice, if he was the one who picked what and when to drink, why did it feel like everything was crumbling around him because of it? If it was supposed to get him though the day, why was he suddenly so unbearably irritable? If drinking was supposed to make him fun and entertaining, why did all of his friends, his brothers, his members, act like they wanted nothing to do with him. 

All this thinking was really making his head hurt worse. 

Thinking was something Minho was never fond of anyways. He liked doing rather than thinking and maybe that is why he could never truly be a leader figure to his members. 

Was he even thinking at all? 

Laying back down with a thump that didn't exactly aid his pounding head, Minho disregarded his phone once more by laying it face down and forced himself to try and think about if he had thought at all. 

He was thinking when Jeongin asked for a sip, Minho still didn't think his response was irrational. Well maybe he wasn't thinking when he pushed Changbin and cornered Seungmin and stormed off but it would be fair to think that this other were not thinking either. 

'But you're supposed to be a hyung' a voice in the back of his head nagged. 

"I know," Minho responded outloud into nothingness. 

Think. Minho had to think some more, this time from his member's perspective. He thought about how shaky and how trapped he felt lately and tried to imagine that it wasn't him feeling like that but rather anyone of his members. 

His heart tightened at the thought because maybe alcohol didn't make everything better after all. 

But at the same time what right do his members have badmouthing him when he was trying. Why couldn't they see that? 

Huffing Minho massaged his temples and furrowed his eyebrows. 

Why couldn't things just go back to the way they were before...was it actually his members or was it him? 

Minho thought and thought some more until the realization hit him that he was selfish. 

He was a big brother whether he liked it or not and he had to set a good example for them. The reality was that he did like it, but he wouldn't like it if one of his little brothers fell down the path he did, he wouldn't like it if they were so dependent on a substance to the point of sneaking it into practice, he wouldn't like being scared of his little brothers. 

He also had a big brother. A big brother who he probably disappointed one too many times and added to his stress instead of helping him manage the team like he was supposed to do. 

He messed up. He knew he messed up in more than one way but at the same time he knew he was going to continue to mess up and felt selfish for even thinking of putting his team through more problems because of him. 

Minho didn't want to think anymore. He had done enough thinking for the year if he was being perfectly honest. So he didn't think anymore. 

Instead he let his members think for him. 

Sitting up, Minho unlocked his phone and scrolled down to the first voicemail. 

He didn't look at the name attached to the voicemail nor did he check the time it was sent, but instead he pressed his phone to his ear and let the voice on the message think for him. 

Even though Minho wasn't thinking anymore, the constant and brutal pounding in his head made it hard for him to process the message being spoken. 

He had enough brain power to at least be aware that it was Chan who was speaking and picked up a few phrases. 

"Hey...I don't know what you're feeling right now or where you are but I want to tell you that you always have a home here Minho...Please just tell me you're safe-" 

Minho thought it was strange that the hand resting in his lap not holding the phone up to his ear was wet. It took him a second to realize that it had been wet from a tear. But Minho was too tired to actually bring his tear stained hand up and wipe his eyes and instead used that possible energy to click on the next voicemail. 

Again he didn't look at the caller identification or the time sent but just pressed his phone to his ear and waited for his member to think for him. 

This time it was Felix. 

"I'm really sorry I glared at you hyung I just- well you always said to be confident in your choices and actions but you know? Sometimes I think it's okay to not actually know what you're doing...I do know one thing though…I want you to come back please…" 

As the slightly accented tone faded Minho found himself subconsciously standing up and clicking on the next voicemail. How or when he did any of that Minho didn't know but he didn't even want to think about that either. 

This time he let Hyunjin think for him. 

"You know you've always been scary to me...but it was a good scary because I knew that you were always on my side...Now I don't know if you are on my side but I don't want you to be scary towards me anymore...I don't like it. You not being here is making me scared so stop it...I still love you hyung, I never stopped. 

At the end of Hyunjin's voice he looked down and realised that he had walked to the little hidden door in the wall and had pushed on it but he still didn't want to think about anything so he let Jisung's panicky voice carry him. 

"You're really starting to freak me out hyung...seriously where are you? Oh my god did someone kidnap you? Should I be calling the cops right now? What if you're hurt...I should calm down shouldn't I? Hey okay, I'll calm down but if you're not back tomorrow morning I'm calling the cops. I'm serious!" 

Clicking the next voice message, Minho realized that his feet had carried him outside of the little room and into the dim alleyway. Nevertheless, he let Jeongin's voice think for him. 

"Hyung…please just come home. We're- I'm worried about you. I'm sorry for not stopping Changbin hyung and the others...please come back home. I miss you." 

And by the end of Jeongin's thinking his legs had carried him out of the alley way and onto the main sidewalk. Seungmin took over the thinking. 

"I never answered your question...I'm not scared of you...I'm scared of what you could be. My dad he- After my mom left he drank a lot. He kept drinking until he didn't care about me anymore and I…" a crack in Seungmin's voice forced him to pause, "I don't want to lose my new family either. After what Woojin did...is it weird to say that he feels like my mom? He used to give the best hugs but now...why does everyone around me turn out for the worst and leave me? And is it weird to say that you're like my dad? I don't want to lose my family for a second time...please hyung please-" 

The voice that broke and started gagging stabbed daggers into Minho's heart and before he could even start thinking again, the tears from before had returned with a vengeance. He decided not to think so he just let the unlikely voice of Changbin take over. 

"Hey...I know you probably don't want to hear my voice but...look I'm just worried about you. Of course I'm fucking worried about you, you prick. I just want Minho back, I want you to teach me how to dance again without actually worrying about you getting angry and I want to hear your jokes and you laugh again…Just come home." 

Even when all the voice messages had ended, when he ran out of voices to think for himself, Minho still didn't want to think. 

So he didn't. He replayed the voice messages over and over again and didn't think about how or where his legs were carrying him. 

It wasn't until his phone ran out of batteries did he realize his feet had carried him to the door of his shared dorm. 

But even still Minho didn't think. He let his body do what it wanted to do and his body wanted to raise it's hand and punch in the code needed to unlock the door and turn the door handle. 

As Minho walked in he was instantly met with 7 pairs of eyes looking at him from various areas of the room. 

What he didn't expect was one of the bodies whose eyes were connected to to half sprint his way and engulf him in an enormous hug. 

The arms that wrapped around him surprised him to say the least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it :) 
> 
> This work is seriously dragging on way longer then I anticipated it to but hope you all are liking it so far. 
> 
> As always comments and kudos are greatly appreciated and encouraged!


	8. Update: The Situation

Hi guys,

I hope you are all doing well. In light of the allegations around Woojin I want to go on the record and just say that I will no longer be writing stories and will edit the Stray Kids chapters in Maknaes Learning to Live to be rewritten without Woojin. It makes me really uncomfortable looking back. That will be posted separately. 

Regarding Woojins mention in the last chapter I have decided to keep his mention but changed Seungmin's tone when referring him. It has now become, "After what Woojin did...is it weird to say that he feels like my mom? He used to give the best hugs but now...why does everyone around me turn out for the worst and leave me?" 

Please let me know if you would prefer me to delete that part all together. 

Anyways, I ask you to please be patient with me, it's been really hard to process all of this. 

Take care everyone!


	9. Letting Go

"You asshole! You absolute asshole!" 

Arms tighten impossibly around Minho. 

Minho became hyper aware of every shaky breath both realised from his own being and of that traveling down the back of his neck. He couldn't help but bring his hand up to rest on the small of Changbin's back. 

"I know" Minho uttered dejectedly. 

The suffocating moments that had stretched on after their brief exchange was filled with uncertainty and Minho could feel the weight of eyes staring, of arms holding, and of breath filling the otherwise silent room but Minho just couldn't find it in him to care about the pressure, or rather, he was too tired to care. 

Afterwhat felt like second and ages all in one, Changbin broke his grasp on the now returned boy and turned, not even sparing a glance, towards the now occupied couches. 

Yet, Minho was shocked when Changbin's grasp returned, this time in the form of hand holding, and he was undoubtedly tugged towards the inner portion of the house into the living room. 

Cast averted downwards, what had shocked Minho even more was the securely wrapped white bandage that created a thin barrier between his and Changbin's hand. 

Searching for Changbin's other hand and finding it to be in the same condition, Minho sharply inhaled and guiltily muttered, "You're hands…" 

Rather than responding, Changbin tightened his hold on Minho's hand and didn't even let go when he deposited Minho onto the center of the couch. 

Minho was expecting a plethora of lectures, yells, and maybe even accusations but when none of that followed, Minho felt even more uncomfortable then if anger had been followed. 

"Go ahead...yell at me if you want. I'm here aren't I? So go ahead." 

But still, nothing followed. 

Infact, Jeongin who had been nervously sitting beside him had done the opposite and had latched onto his arm, burying his face into the back of Minho's shoulder. 

Still, Minho's frustrations still presided. They built onto the fact that he still felt like an outsider in his own organically produced family and he couldn't take it anymore. 

"Cone on! Yell at me! Punch me! Do...something!" 

"Minho…" Chan spoke up with eyes holding pity, "We're not going to yell at you and we're certainly not going to hit you." 

Minho hated it. He hated pity even more than the suffocating silence. 

"Yell at me! Fucking do it! I thought you were the leader huh. Don't you want to tell me how wrong I am or how fucking right you are!" Minho fumed. 

"You know what," Chan yelled with a booming voice that had startled everyone, "You want me to yell? Okay I'll yell then!" 

Chan stood up with a slam on the table in front of him. 

Poor Jeongin had migrated from behind Minho's shoulder to fully hiding behind Hyunjin's back and diagonal of him, Seungmin was in a similar state behind a shaken Jisung. 

It wasn't like Chan to yell.

In fact, the whole group could probably count on one hand the amount of times Chan lost his temper with them. His approaches varied from "I'm disappointed in you" to "go think about what you did" but it never involved yelling. 

Maybe it was partly due to the fact that Chan had to be calm and collected. He had to be the one strong enough to imitate 'everything is okay' vibes even when everything felt so overwhelming to the point of falling apart because that's what a good leader does and if Chan was anything, he was a good leader. 

So of course it was jarring when Chan seemed to have lost control at Minho and began pointing a finger in his direction and began his lecture, "Do you have any idea what you did Minho? Not only have you been hurting yourself but, even if it was intentional, you have also been hurting your members!" 

Minho gritted his teeth abit, "I know" 

"Not to mention how after all that, after everything, you just avoid responsibility and run away. You didn't even tell us where you went! You wouldn't answer us at all! Do you have any idea how fucking worried we were, how worried I was! No, of course you didn't. " Chan continued righteously. 

"I know" Minho said, clenching his fists forgetting that Changbins injured one was in his grasp and unintentionally made the boy flinch as a result. 

"You also set a bad example for your younger brothers, you made us walk on eggshells because everytime we tried to help you, you would just come at our throats like somehow we were the bad guys for trying to help someone we love!" Chan finished directly looming over Minho's bowed figure. 

"I know! I know all that okay! I fucking know!" Minho hissed but with his head down casted towards his lap. 

"If you know," Chan kneeled down and cupped Minho's cheeks with his hands, "then there's no point in me yelling now is there?" Chan said with a now soft tone. 

And just like how Chan never yelled, Minho never cried. 

Except he was. 

As tears swelled up within his eyes, Minho couldn't find the power to fight anymore and just let go. 

Chan, navigating the crying boy's head to rest on his supportive shoulder, brought his hand to rest on Minhos's head instead. 

Chan would never say he found happiness in any of his boy's crying. Rather, when one of his kids would cry his heart would break and urge him to cry with them. But for once Chan was happy that Minho was crying because it meant that they had finally, after weeks and weeks of battling, they had finally broken through. 

"H-hyung" Minho's voice quivered from the sheer force of his sobs, "I'm so sorry...I'm just so tired!" Minho continued to break down, hands long released Changbins and now fisting the fabric of Chan's now damp shirt. 

"I know," Chan said petting Minho's head, "but I got you, we've got you, and we sure aren't letting you go anytime soon. Not anymore." 

The day carried on with endless tears, apologies, and promises, and by the time everyone had been reassured into temporary stability, it was already time for bed. 

Staring up at the darkened ceiling, Minho had been restless all night. His mind had been filled with so much to think about after not having the ability to think for a long time and it was absolutely eating away at him. 

Worries of the future and of the past hijacked his endeavors of slumber and not even thinking about his beautiful fur babies back at home could take his mind off of his worries. 

Caught up in his own thought, Minho didn't notice the force of a body slithering their way into his room and into his bed until he felt someone's presence directly on top of him weighing him down like a weighted blanket. 

"Hi" Seungmin's small voice simply greeted. 

In a way, Minho was tired of all the twists and turns of today, but while he was tired of surprises he would certainly not turn away this surprising, especially not after what he did prior to the boy. 

Pushing his self doubt aside and letting his big brother instincts reign, Minho's hand made its way to caress Seungmin's hair almost as a subconscious atonement for injuring the area prior. 

There was a comfortable silence between the two of them but there was one thing Minho needed to ask for himself. 

"I thought you were scared of me?" 

A couple seconds followed and Seungmin had responded with his own burning question, "What's more important, hyung? Me or alcohol." 

Horrified was the only way Mimho could describe his reaction to the uttering of such a ridiculous question. 

As his heart ached, his hold on the younger boy tightened and his hurt lased response came instantly, "Of course you're more important than some drink. How could you even ask that pup?" 

Nuzzling deeper into his hyung's warmth, that was all Seungmin needed, "Then I'm all good hyung."

And while Minho made the silent vow to never hurt his family the same way again while proactively holding Seungmin that night, it was a lot harder said than done. 

There were many times Minho wanted to give up or felt like he would be more useful to the world if the group swallowed him up whole. 

At one point he had taken up drinking up an excessive amount of water to replace his urge to drink. Everytime his fingers itched and twitched for a drink, he would indulge in some water instead. For a while, it was a healthy alternative, but when Minho's body had begun rejecting the obscure water intakes by vomiting all the water he had drunk, Minho had bawled his eyes out for hours feeling lost. 

And another time he felt so stressed and relapsed, chugging any and all liquor he could find and had regretted it afterwards to the point of angry punches to the wall. 

But his members were there for him. 

It was Changbin who had been there to rub Minho's back when he was vomiting water and Hyunjin to wipe his tears away and give reassurance. 

It was Jisung who had been there to take care of Minho the morning after his relapse and Felix who had convinced him to get out of bed after his self disappointment made it so he felt too useless to even use his legs. 

It was Chan who also picked up the bottles and made sure he got professional help when he needed it and Seungmin who sat and offered his hand during his occasional therapy meeting. 

And it was Jeongin who was always ready to cuddle him and always treat him like there was nothing wrong with him. 

It was because of everyone that he had been sober for three months now and felt like, for the first time since he spiraled down the rabbit whole, that he could see the light at the end of the tunnel. 

Minho finally felt like himself again, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, thank you all so much for sticking through this journey with me. I really hope the last chapter gave you some closer to conclude the story. I'm sorry it took so long to post but life gets in the way. 
> 
> Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated and encouraged! Let me know if you have any suggestions on who/what the next work in the series should be!

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! It's been awhile since my last work but I've decided to give writing another shot. This is going to be a 5(?) Part work that is part of a series surrounding each member of Stray Kids struggling in some way and finding support in their other members. 
> 
> Feel free to leave some suggestions or feedback.


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